Day 2: Speak
by SooperSara
Summary: Zutara Week 2019: Day 2 Stealing from pirates doesn't go as well the second time around. But at least Katara doesn't have to be alone after she's captured.


This was not going the way she'd planned it. The boys had tried to talk her out of going—"_Come on, Katara, let it go. You already have a waterbending scroll. A bunch of them, actually. You're not gonna shrivel up if you don't get your hands on this one."_

But this scroll was special. All her other scrolls were from the North. Much as she appreciated what she had learned from Pakku and Yugoda, their bending wasn't her heritage. This scroll, though, _this _one was from the Southern Tribe. As the last surviving waterbender from the South Pole, it was her duty to take it back.

But she hadn't counted on the pirate ship being so heavily guarded in the dead of night—worse, she'd forgotten that one of them was an earthbender. The waxing gibbous moon gave her a slight advantage, but the river was narrow enough that the earthbender could still fight, and there were enough nonbenders, all armed to the teeth, that she couldn't hold her own for long.

It brought her a strange sense of satisfaction when the pirates dragged her below deck and she discovered that she wasn't their only prisoner. Katara remembered that horrible, grinning mask from countless wanted posters across the Earth Kingdom. If the pirates could capture the Blue Spirit, then at least she had lost to worthy opponents.

But sitting across from him, those empty black eyes boring into hers, was less satisfying. It was unnerving. Aang always insisted that the Blue Spirit wasn't so bad, that despite his less than legal activities, the Blue Spirit really did have good intentions. Katara wasn't convinced. That ominous, toothy grin and the empty, white-rimmed eyes staring at her from the dark blue mask hardly inspired trust or confidence in her.

So she was surprised when she found herself starting to speak. "I thought you were taller."

She heard a derisive breath from beneath the mask.

"I've seen your wanted posters all over the Earth Kingdom," she retorted. "The Blue Spirit. They only ever showed your face—your mask—whatever. I just thought that someone wanted for crimes against the Fire Nation would be taller." She wrinkled her nose. "My brother is your size."

That earned a snort from the Blue Spirit, and he turned away. Or he did as well as he could with his arms tied over his head and his ankles bound in front of him. At least the pirates had been thoughtful enough to tie Katara's hand behind her back instead. It wasn't comfortable, but it had to be better than having her elbows dangle next to her ears.

"Aang told me that you aren't as scary as you look." Katara wasn't sure why she kept talking—maybe it was easier than listening to the river rushing against the hull of the boat. She could feel the water's pull in her veins, and if she let herself listen to the call of her element for too long, she might give in and summon a blast of sharpened ice to plunge the boat to the bottom of the river. In theory, it wasn't the worst idea she'd ever come up with. In reality, she knew that while her bound hands and ankles would pose no problem in summoning ice spikes, they would make _escape_ difficult. If not impossible. She rested her head back against a crate.

"I guess if you've been fighting the Fire Nation, he might be right."

The Blue Spirit visibly stiffened, somehow managing to exude annoyance without making a sound. But Katara still couldn't stop herself.

"What are you doing here, anyway? Pirates' trinkets seem sort of—trivial for the Blue Spirit. I don't know what you normally fight for, but all the stories made it sound so much grander than this." Katara fidgeted against her ropes. "I mean, risking your life for a few jewels isn't exactly the same as fighting for a cause. Whatever your cause is."

The Blue Spirit let out a long breath and shook his head slightly.

"What?" she asked, straightening. "You're not fighting for anything?"

There was a pause, then he shook his head.

Katara frowned. "I don't believe you. People don't just run around in spooky masks and risk their lives without reason."

He scoffed, and with some effort, turned to face her again. His hands twisted in the ropes until he managed to point a finger in her direction.

"Me?"

A nod.

"What am _I_ doing here? What, you can't be bothered to actually ask the question?" She studied him, as if the mask might somehow give away something more than she'd seen so far. "Can you speak?"

He shook his head, but only after a long hesitation. He was lying. A part of her wanted to lie in retaliation—if _he _refused to tell her the truth, why should she extend him that courtesy? But as she stared back at those gaping black holes and tried to imagine the human eyes underneath, she realized that she didn't _need_ to lie. She didn't even want to. She wasn't ashamed of her purpose here. The Blue Spirit might have things to hide, but Katara didn't.

"I heard a rumor," she admitted in an undertone. "These pirates are pretty well known for stealing priceless things. Cultural relics. A few months ago, I took back something that rightfully belonged to my people. A waterbending scroll from the Northern Tribe. And yesterday, I heard that they found something even rarer." She wanted to curl into a ball, but being tied as she was made that nearly impossible. She settled for lowering both her eyes and her voice. "A waterbending scroll from the Southern Water Tribe. My home. My people. I'm the last living waterbender from the South Pole. It's my responsibility to bring our bending traditions back to life, and I can't do that if the only thing I know is Northern style bending." Her hands clenched into fists. "I saw the scrolls. There's more than one of them. I held the box, and I just—stared at them. They were so beautiful, and so—" She paused to swallow before she could choke on the lump that had risen to her throat. "I could have gotten away. If I had just _left_ with them, I wouldn't be here right now."

The Blue Spirit was listening to her. Really listening. His head tilted ever so slightly to the side, and it wasn't just the empty blackness staring at her now—she could feel the human gaze beneath the mask fixed on her face.

"I meant to be back to camp by now." The moon's weak pull on her was waning—it must be nearly daybreak by now. "I was going to sneak back into camp before my brother realized I was missing. But now—" Her shoulders curled inward. "He's going to be worried about me. Aang will be too." She let out a small sigh and studied the Blue Spirit, trying to spot anything that gave away who he was under his disguise. There was nothing to find. He was clad entirely in black, save for the mask.

"What about you? You must have someone. Friends or family? Somebody's going to worry when you don't show up."

She wasn't sure what sort of reaction she was expecting, but it wasn't the reaction she got. The Blue Spirit made a sound like he'd been choked—the nearest he'd come to speech so far—and began pulling at his ropes.

"What are you doing?" Katara hissed. "Are you planning on escaping?"

He nodded and hauled himself up until he managed to grab the beam he was tied to. Propping himself up, he tugged at the knots. Katara blinked at him.

She thought she saw a flash of light, but before she could figure out where it had come from, the Blue Spirit was busy unraveling the ropes from his wrists. Katara pulled against her own ropes. Sokka had taught her lots about different types of knots, how to tie them, how to quickly loosen them—the problem was, she knew them by sight, not by feel. She let out a noise of frustration.

Before she could manage to free herself, a hand grasped her shoulder—warmer than she expected. She looked up to find the blue mask looming over her. He held up a small dagger and mimed cutting through ropes, then paused, as if waiting for her permission.

Slowly, Katara nodded, and the Blue Spirit reached around her back and sliced her free in a single motion.

"Thanks," Katara whispered and reached down to untie her ankles.

The Blue Spirit hesitated a second before he nodded and motioned for her to follow.

They crept up the stairs together, Katara marveling over how silent and graceful the Blue Spirit was. He was a bit taller than she first thought—not by much, but taller than Sokka—slender and lithe. Young, too, she suspected. Without seeing his face, there was no way to be certain, but she had never known a grown man—a _warrior_—to balk at social interactions the way he did. But now, ducking around corners and dodging from one shadow to the next, he moved with absolute certainty. As though stealth and fighting came as naturally to him as breathing.

At the window to the pirates' storeroom, the Blue Spirit motioned her forward and held up a finger. Katara read his message clearly. _Keep moving. I'll catch up in a minute._

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving without you. You helped me get untied, I'm going to help you get off this ship."

He huffed and jabbed a finger toward the outside again.

Katara folded her arms. "Not a chance, Blue Spirit. I'm a waterbender. You're going to need my help to get off this boat."

He stared at her. Really stared. She stared right back, into the inky blackness of his eyes. The mask's gleaming white teeth weren't half so intimidating when he was trying to argue with her. She had won far more difficult arguments with Sokka, and _he_ had speech on his side. The Blue Spirit didn't. She raised an eyebrow at him.

With a sigh, the Blue Spirit shook his head and motioned for her to wait where she was. Dagger in hand, he wedged open the window and slipped silently inside.

Katara rolled her eyes after him, but hung close to the wall, staying hidden in the semi-darkness. There was some clattering inside the storeroom, and she peeked through the window. It was too dark to see much, but she thought she could make out the white bits of his mask as he moved through the rows of trinkets and treasures, occasionally whirling to one side or the other as if dodging an attack. He came near enough to the window that she could see another shadowy figure lunge at him, but the Blue Spirit spun out of reach and the other figure crashed headlong into a shelf.

The noise drew attention from the deck, and Katara crept farther down the hall. She could nearly reach the water from here—just a few more steps, and she'd have the entire river at her disposal. As the footsteps overhead grew nearer, she took hold of the water, poising to strike. But before she had a chance to send the approaching pirates sailing into the river, the storeroom door swung open, and the Blue Spirit emerged, a sword in either hand and a pack slung over his shoulder. He gestured toward the deck, and Katara nodded, falling into step behind him.

The pirates were waiting for them when they emerged, more of them than either Katara or the Blue Spirit could have fought alone. But the Blue Spirit sprang into motion, swords flashing in the early morning light, and Katara pulled a stream of water to her side.

They fought side-by-side, moving in near-perfect coordination. The Blue Spirit seemed to know exactly when to duck to stay clear of Katara's attacks, and Katara, in turn, had no trouble keeping out of his way. She smirked in satisfaction when she noticed several of the men she'd faced earlier hanging back and favoring bandaged limbs. They may have captured her, but she left her mark too.

Together, they thinned the crowd of pirates until there was a clear path to the railing. Then Katara grabbed the Blue Spirit by the arm and pulled him forward. She leapt up onto the railing and after a second's hesitation, the Blue Spirit joined her. Before the pirates could reach them again, Katara summoned a massive wave and threw an arm around his waist to drag him into the water.

The wave carried them to shore while the boat capsized behind them. Katara didn't need to look back. She could feel the pirates plunge into the icy river a moment before her feet met with the bank and she broke into a run, still side-by-side with the Blue Spirit.

They ran until the yells after them faded to distant echoes and they broke out of the trees and into a clearing. Both breathing hard, they stopped.

Katara couldn't help it. She started laughing, still breathless from the fight and the waterbending and the running. She had expected worse. So much worse, and yet here she was, safe and free, and unexpectedly standing next to an internationally wanted criminal in a blue mask, but she wasn't afraid of him. Not in the least. He made a better ally in a fight than almost anyone else, and he had gone out of his way to help her escape. Whoever he was under the mask, she would fight at his side again in a heartbeat.

"We did it," she said, beaming up at him. "That—that was amazing. You were amazing. I can't believe—" She threw her arms around his neck. "I can't believe we made it."

The Blue Spirit stiffened, and Katara pulled back.

"Sorry! Sorry—I should have asked—"

The movement knocked his mask askew, and for the first time, Katara got a glimpse of the face underneath. Just a sliver of exposed skin, no wider than her little finger, but it was enough. A patch of red, ridged skin in an otherwise pale face—she recoiled away from him.

She didn't need to say his name. The recognition, the accusation was evident enough in her eyes. Even she could tell that.

He straightened the mask as though covering his face could fix everything. As though she would forget the huge crimson scar over the left side of his face if she could no longer see it.

For a moment, she could do nothing but stare. Once the mask was back in place, he let his arms drop, and she almost thought she saw his shoulders curling inward in something like defeat or dejection. He didn't attack. Katara almost expected him to, but those hollow black slits simply stared at her. Underneath, she now knew, a pair of golden eyes were doing the same.

"Don't follow me," she said at last, turning on her heel. She could find her own way. Better than him, probably. Finding fresh water would be easy enough, and she knew how to hunt, how to fish, how to cook. It wouldn't be easy, but she knew where the others were headed. In a few days—weeks, maybe—she would be with them again.

"Katara." His voice was quieter than she remembered it, and almost—almost sad.

Katara paused, looking back over her shoulder. Zuko still hadn't moved, but she heard him sigh, and in a slow, fluid motion, he pulled the mask off. His face was pinched and tired-looking, and when he pushed his hood down as well, she could see that his carefully-shaved hair had been allowed to grow wild. The place where his ponytail used to be was scraggly and uneven and the rest of his head was darkening with an uneven black stubble.

"Wait." He let the mask fall to the ground with a hollow clatter. "I—um." He fumbled for something over his shoulder and eventually produced a narrow, ornate box. "I think—This is yours. I mean—you should have it. It's what you were looking for back there, isn't it?"

She stared in disbelief as he set the box on a flat-topped stone and backed a few steps away. That box, with its Water Tribe patterns and inscriptions—it almost looked like an offering. Like a truce. Katara folded her arms.

"Listen, you didn't have to help me get out. I didn't expect you to." Zuko shifted, looking uncomfortable. "I just—I guess I just thought that one of us should get what we were looking for." For a second, he was quiet, as if waiting for a response, then he shook himself and stepped forward to collect his mask. "I'm just looking for my uncle," he continued as he retreated to a safe distance again. "I know you don't have any reason to believe me, but I'm not going to fight you." At that, he paused again, looking almost hopeful.

Katara stared wordlessly at him. She couldn't believe anything he said. She knew that, deep down, and yet—and yet he didn't _sound_ like he was lying. He didn't look like it either, he just looked—tired. And hungry. And, perhaps even more than her, lost.

Before she could decide how to react, Zuko turned away, angling southward toward the ocean. She crossed the clearing and ran a hand over the cover of the box, over the inlaid bits of pearl and brightly colored shell. With one hand, she cracked open the lid just enough to see that the scrolls were still inside before she hugged the box to her chest and stood.

"Zuko." She didn't speak loudly. She didn't need to. If Zuko wanted to hear her, he would.

He didn't turn immediately, but he did pause, shoulders tensed as if he expected an attack.

"Do you have any idea where we are?"

Peering back over his shoulder, he shook his head.

Katara took a deep breath. "Neither do I," she admitted.

Slowly, Zuko turned back to face her. "What are you saying?" His voice was a gentle rasp, more pleasant than she had given it credit for in the past.

"I'm saying—" Another deep breath. "Do you think we'd have a better chance if we stuck together?"

Even from across the clearing, she could see him swallow. He was wary. And somehow, that was reassuring.

"Truce?" he offered, something almost like hope in his voice.

She expected to hesitate. Calling a truce with the crown prince of the Fire Nation should have filled her with fear, but right now, all she could feel was relief. She may not have her brother or Aang at her side, but at least she wasn't alone. Tucking the scroll box under her arm, she held her hand out in offering.

"Truce."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So... a Blutara fic for "Speak"... because... the Blue Spirit doesn't speak... and... yeah, I'm not sure if this is a super on-the-nose interpretation of the prompt or a super off-the-wall one, but... _eh._ I like it.

Actually, I _really_ like this. As in... I'm tempted to make this into a multi-chaptered fic someday (because what kind of Zutarian would I be if I didn't write an unhealthy amount of Blutara content?). So let me know what you think! Reviews are always appreciated, and if you would be interested in seeing this expanded (_someday_, because I've got a lot on my plate with Ice & Smoke), give me a shout!

**Thanks for reading!**


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